The left door never hides the lady. That same, foresaken story retells itself without hesitation or exception. The tiger prowls behind the door on the left. The lady waits behind the door to the right. And, in between, a choice.
Any sort of fool may choose poorly once, but what manner of fool makes the same mistake repeatedly, worse yet continually? A rare and true fool this one must be. As if enjoying the lethal sting of claws and teeth, that fool takes his chances when chance is no more.
How blind and embicilic must he be not to choose the right door? He wants the lady, longs for her even. He tremors at fear of the tiger. Yet injuries inflicted already, by reason or excuse, mar him into making his ill-fated decision. The story never changes. Neither does its unlearned lesson.
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